Enough
by Sierra Nichole
Summary: As painful as it was, knowing that his little brother had found happiness was enough for Dean, and it gave him the strength to say goodbye. Missing scene from the Pilot episode. My first Supernatural fanfic.


**Title: Enough **

**Author: Sierra**

**Rated: PG**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural _or any of the characters...but boy, do I wish I owned Jensen and Jared!!! Hehe**

**Summary: Leaving Sam alone was the hardest thing Dean ever had to do, but knowing his little brother was happy gave him the strength to do it. Takes place at the end of the "Pilot". **

**A/N: Here it is, my first _Supernatural _fanfic! I just got hooked on this show (and by "just", I mean last week), so I'm still getting a feel for how the characters interact, what they're feeling, etc. Any and all constructive criticism is whole-heartedly welcomed, don't be afraid. Reviews are always appreciated!**

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The rumble of the Impala's engine was the only sound as they pulled up in front of the apartment building and came to a stop on the side of the road, Dean's hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were nearly white, he kept his face forward as Sam silently got out and shut the door. For a moment, Dean wondered if his little brother was even going to bother to say goodbye . . .

"Call me if you find him?"

Dean looked up to see Sam's hopeful face peering through the open window, unable to resist, he nodded a 'yes' to the question.

"And maybe I'll hook up with you later, huh?" Sam suggested.

_Yeah, sure you will. _"Yeah, all right," Dean said.

With that, Sam turned and began walking up the sidewalk, back to his normal life with his normarl studies and his normal girlfriend; everything he had ever wanted was waiting for him behind those doors, briefly, Dean allowed himself to wonder what that kind of life was like as he started the engine. But that wasn't what he wanted, that was never what he wanted . . . all he wanted was walking away from him in that moment.

"Sam!" he called, twisting to look after his brother, who paused and turned. "Y'know we made a hell of a team back there," Dean continued, smiling just a little. _Just this one last try. And then I'll let him go. _

Sam nodded cautiously, but didn't speak a word.

And that was that, Dean realized, tearing his eyes from Sam to focus on the road as he pulled away, determined not to glance back . . . but he did, and felt some kind of satisfaction at seeing Sam staring after him through the rearview mirror. Driving slowly enough to avoid an accident, he continued to watch as Sam finally turned and walked into the building, disappearing from his sight; sighing in frustration, he pulled over again and cut the engine.

It's not like it was anything new, really. It had been four years since the fight that had sent Sam storming out of their motel room and their father headed for the bar, Dean was left alone that night, sitting on his bed and staring down at his hands, wondering how his family had so suddenly come undone.

No, it wasn't a sudden thing, he had to admit to himself, Sam and their father had been fighting for years, butting heads about the smallest things and nearly coming to blows about the big things; but, of course, Dean was always there to tear them apart, sending their dad away to get a drink and dragging Sam back to their room with him. Eventually they would all calm down, and by the next day it was as if the fight had never happened, Sam and their father didn't speak to each other . . . but that was normal, even if they hadn't fought.

After a life spent fighting with his dad and hunting evil beings, Sam decided he'd had enough . . . he wanted what everyone else in the world had: Normal. And Dean couldn't blame him, even though watching his little brother walk away was the hardest thing he'd ever done . . . watching him and forcing the tears out of his eyes.

Sam hadn't even looked back. No wave. No "See ya around, Dean". No acknowledgment that he even had a brother.

Of course that wasn't the last time that Dean had seen Sam, although to the little brother's knowledge it was; every couple months, if jobs permitted him to do so, Dean made the trip to Stanford and snuck around campus till he spotted Sam somewhere . . . the library, his face buried in a thick book . . . at the cafe, surrounded by laughing friends, his own eyes bright with joy . . . it was during one of those trips that Dean had made the decision to never try to force Sam back into his life . . .

_Christmas, 2002._

_Dean shivered as he sat in the driver's seat of his beloved car, hugging himself in a futile effort to block out the cold, he grumbled to himself in annoyance . . . the Impala was known for many good things, but it's heating was not one of them. What the hell anyway, it was California, for God's sake! _Isn't it supposed to be sunny and seventy degrees all year round? _he demanded, silently. There wasn't even any snow to make the cold worthwhile._

_Sitting all alone out in the cold, he began to wonder if making the trip to Stanford was a mistake after all, it was highly likely that Sam didn't even want to see him . . . it's not like he'd made any effort to _last _Christmas. But then again, that was only a few months after he'd left, maybe he was still just trying to settle in . . . or was still too angry to try calling and risk reaching his father instead of Dean. Now it had been over a year, surely Sam wouldn't mind catching up with his big brother just for an hour or two . . . _

_Hearing laughter, Dean looked up and out the windshield to see a group of young adults emerging from what appeared to be some kind of a community center, just the type of place Dean wouldn't be caught dead in. Though the girls coming out from there _were _pretty hot. One, in particular, caught his attention as she bounced outside, bundled up with a fluffy scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs on, her long wavy golden hair framing her sweet face perfectly as she smiled up at . . ._

_"Sam."_

_Dean's voice was barely above a whisper, he stared in shock as his little brother pulled the pretty girl closer and planted a loving kiss on her lips, then pulled back and said something that made them both start laughing till they were red in the face. God, he looked so happy . . . Dean smirked, thinking of how we would tease Sam mercilessly about that goofy hat he was wearing, not to mention that ridiculous goatee he was sporting in an attempt to look older._

_"This is gonna be fun," he muttered, taking out his cell phone and flipping it open. It'd be a good surprise to call him, say he was thinking about visiting, and then wait for Sam to notice the Impala parked across the street . . . neatly concealed between two huge vans. _Who the hell drives those things anyway? _he wondered to himself. _

_Not needing to look through his contacts to know, he dialed Sam's number and held the phone to his ear, keeping his eyes on Sam as he saw him reach into his pocket and pull his own phone out . . . to Dean's absolute horror, Sam's smile vanished as he looked at the phone, undoubtedly recognizing the number. He stopped walking with the group, standing frozen in that one spot, and Dean could swear he could see his hand shaking; as the pretty girl stopped and turned, Dean risked rolling down his window just a bit. It was enough._

_"Sam?" the girl's voice was sweet, feminine and soft. "What's wrong, hun?"_

_Dean heard the phone ring again, and with as it went unanswered he felt a lump in his throat form quickly; suddenly he was terrified, afraid that his little brother might not even bother answering, not giving him the chance to reject him like that, Dean quickly shut the phone._

_"Who was that?" the girl asked, touching Sam's sleeve tenderly._

_Sam shook his head. "Um, nothing . . . just, uh, wrong number, I guess."_

_Their voices died away as Dean rolled the window back up, continuing to watch as Sam wrapped his arms around the girl again and kissed her before they continued on their way; now Dean hoped against hope that Sam would not see the conspicious Impala---partly because he didn't want to see him anymore, and even more because he was afraid Sam _wouldn't _walk over._

_"Sammy," he whispered, brokenly. _

_Shaking his head and blinking furiously, Dean flipped on the radio and cursed angrily at the song that started playing over the speakers. _"I'll Be Home for Christmas", just great, _he thought._

_Wiping a hand down his face, he twisted around to look back and slowly backed up, suddenly even more pissed when he realized he was going to have to turn around and drive right past Sam in order to get where he needed to go. He was half-tempted to sit in that parking spot all night, or at least until Sam had disappeared from sight . . . but it was so damn cold, and he really wanted to collapse onto that bed of his motel room. So with an angry curse, he pulled out of the space and turned the wheel sharply, skidding slightly on the slippery road._

_Flipping the channel to his favorite station, he pressed down hard on the gas pedal and drove by the group of friends, for once wishing the Impala was just . . . quieter. But there was no hiding the roar of the engine, and he watched as Sam stopped abruptly and looked to the road, his eyes widening with recognition and his mouth falling open as the car drove by. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dean saw his little brother staring after him, and silently hoped he hadn't just ruined the boy's whole Christmas._

_"It's okay, Sammy," he sighed, "you won't have to worry about me showing up again." _

_Sam had finally found normal. He was finally happy. And Dean would be damned before he'd let anything or anyone, including himself, mess that up._

Dean exhaled slowly, running his hands up and down the wheel absently as the memory of that Christmas evening replayed in his mind. Three years later he now knew that the pretty girl had been Jessica, and she was obviously someone Sam loved dearly, since they had been together for so long. Apparently, Sam had found someone to make him happy, and Dean couldn't fault his brother for that . . . besides, she did seem like a sweet girl.

_Yeah well, if she busts his heart she's gonna have to answer to me. _

That possiblity hardly seemed likely though, not after the way he'd seen Jessica gaze up at Sam with adoration and love in her eyes. No, she wasn't going to hurt his brother. They would most likely end up getting married and having babies together, Sam would go onto law school and maybe become some kind of a hotshot, rich lawyer . . . he would have his normal life. And, more importantly, he would be happy. And that was enough for Dean.

Finding peace with those thoughts, Dean smiled to himself and began to pull out onto the road once again . . . just as an explosion of flames burst out from the window of Sam's apartment, sending glass and debris all over the yard as Dean watched in horror through his back window.

"SAM!!!"


End file.
